Flour Child
by fangsandvampirates
Summary: Stiles and Derek decide to go out for a date night, leaving their two year old son home with Peter. When they got home, they realized how bad it was to let Peter babysit. (the OC I have tagged in this is Sterek's kid, btw)


The house was too quiet when Derek and Stiles returned home from their date. They had been worried about leaving their son with a babysitter, and their usual sitter (Kira) was on a date with her boyfriend (Scott). So, naturally, much to Stiles' chagrin, Peter volunteered.

"This was a horrible beyond horrible idea, Derek!" Stiles hissed as they kicked their shoes off in the entryway.

"Relax. Maybe they're just asleep." But Derek didn't sound as convincing as he had hoped. His husband narrowed his eyes as they wandered further into their home.

What they found made them freeze.

"That's it. Peter's not babysitting ever again."

Derek couldn't help but agree with Stiles.

Peter was lounged on the couch, clearly fast asleep, and from the looks of things, he'd been that way for a while. Their whole living room looked as if it had been caught in a snowstorm. Only, they live in California, where there is no snow, and certainly not on the inside of the house. No, the snow was simple cooking flour. And it was everywhere. However, their two year old son was no where in sight.

It looked as if their spawn had tried to wake up Peter, as there were two tiny handprints on his cheeks.

"Derek, I'm going to find the culprit, you kick your uncle out," Stiles demanded, cursing under his breath. If he thought the living room was bad, he didn't want to see what his kid did to the rest of the house.

It didn't take long to find the source of the mess: the bag of flour looked as if it had exploded on the floor from where it pushed from it's usual perch on top of the fridge. He could only imagine the effort his son had used to get up there.

Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face while he called out, "Tyler?"

The answering giggle came from under the dining room table.

Stiles pulled a chair out of the way to crouch down to be able to look at his son. It was a bad idea considering the child was prepared and had both hands full of flour, which he proceeded to throw into Stiles' face.

Stiles fell back, sputtering. "Gah!"

Tyler gasped, scrambling to see if his father was okay. "Papa? Papa?"

Once the powder was clear from his eyes and nose, Stiles coughed a cloud of flour onto his son's worried face.

"I sowwy, Papa. You okay?" Tyler's big green eyes were sad.

Stiles chuckled, his anger lifting at his son's concern. "I'm fine, pup. Look, you made me a snowman just like you."

Tyler grinned, happy to hear that he wasn't in trouble.

"Well," they heard Derek's voice from the other room, "Peter's gone. But I made him promise to come back tomorrow to help clean up. And he knows that he's officially fi-whoa."

Stiles and Tyler look up as Derek assesses the mess in the kitchen and dining room.

Derek lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck. "You, uh, really made a mess here, pup." He glances at his husband who had leaned in to say something to their son, and by the glint in Stiles' eye, he knew it wasn't good.

Tyler giggled, nodding his head in response to whatever he had been told and Derek suddenly feared for his life because that was the exact evil giggle the Sheriff had warned him about. The toddler bent down to gather more flour into his hands, just like Stiles.

"You better not," Derek said, backing up.

"Daddy has to be a snowman, too, doesn't he, Ty?" Stiles asked the child, who nodded furiously, a white cloud falling from his hair.

Derek continued his retreat as his husband and son started to advance on him. "No, Daddy does not need to be a snowman. Daddy has to go into court in the morning so Daddy can't have white hair." He stumbled into the coffee table just in time to get an armful of child who shoved the flour into his father's beard.

But how Derek ended up finding a handful of flour in his pants after they managed to get their child cleaned up and in bed, was beyond him. But he was 250% sure that it had something to do with the evil smirk that seemed to be permanently painted on Stiles' face.


End file.
